Chapter 10
Chapter Ten
Choking the life out of my purse, I stare at him with my heart rate spiking. “No, I don’t mind.”
What am I doing?
Sylvester will blow a fuse if he sees. Even though he has no right to act like he does, this is going to make him crazy.
I need to deal with him, but having the man go nuclear and getting my father all wrapped up in it is something I am hoping to avoid.
Things are already bad enough.
Walt says something else to the driver, and slides in the back seat, unbuttoning his suit-coat as he does. With a swift tug, the door thuds closed.
He leans back, reaches up, his strong hands working the knot on his tie. “That’s better. No prying eyes or ears.”
Is it better?
I’m not sure. Where did all the oxygen go?
The space feels tiny now even though it’s a large town car with windows tinted so heavily no one would ever be able to see us.
It's ridiculously intimate.
My body reacts accordingly.
Bells and whistles. Heat and tingles. The whole circus act.
I’m clutching my little blue purse so hard, I can hear my MAC lipstick screaming for mercy. “W-what did you s-say to the driver?”
Nervous, anyone?
“Told him to give me a minute.” He smiles broadly. “He agreed. It’s a man thing. Kind of the opposite of cock-blocking.”
I shake my head and laugh at him. “I don’t understand that at all.”
“Really, he knew I wasn’t a threat to you.”
Velvety low, dripping with that accent of his, his words invade all my senses. The light changes in his eyes, making my laugh disappear on a quick exhale.
Not a threat? Bahahaha.
This man is the ultimate threat.
Any woman with functioning ovaries is at risk for disaster.
I am not safe. By a long shot.
Which is why I should push him out of the car like he’s on fire.
I turn to face him, ready to ask him to leave, but my breath lurches inside my lungs when I see that his tie is off now—it’s a dark coil of silk lying in his lap.
Crazy how that small strip of fabric snaps my eyes to it like a magnet.
Or maybe it’s the thick hunk of man below that’s making a huge bulge in his pants.
Hot prickles unfurl under my skin, first my arms, then my chest, up my neck. I clear my throat and drag my gaze up—only to get another eyeful.
The collar of his shirt is also unbuttoned.
Wheeze.
There’s a dusting of short chest hair visible, along with a peek of tan skin over strong collarbones. Then there’s the muscular column of his neck.
My mouth goes dry and my tongue chooses to stick to the roof of my mouth.
He was wearing a T-shirt earlier, but this is a thousand times sexier.
Or maybe I’m just tuned in to his masculinity now like a radio receiver.
Walt shifts in his seat, chuckling.
“What?” I ask, confused.
“I thought you were going to clock Sylvester the Pussycat with your little purse.”
I snort, almost grateful for the distraction. “You didn’t just call him a cartoon feline.”
“I can’t say that name without thinking of the show. By the way, what’s with all the light blue silk he was wearing? Was there a big Easter sale at Macy’s?”
My belly tickles with a laugh.
This is trouble.
Walt is not only handsome. He’s funny. Sexy as hell. And protective.
I sigh, this time almost happily. “Sylvester is ridiculous. Baby blue is his favorite color. It is so weird because the man is pure evil, if you ask me.”
When I lean back and sigh again, he looks at me like he’s waiting for me to continue.
I wave a hand in front of my face trying to slough off some of the heat. “I can’t see you in baby blue, ever. And I just have to say…Walt, you are a nice surprise in the monotony of weirdness that makes up my life these days.”
He goes very still except his gaze shifts my way. It’s pulsing with energy. “You, too, babe.”
I fight to swallow.
This man steals my breath, over and over.
“What is the deal with him?”
Buzz kill question.
I fight an eye roll because it seems juvenile given the subject, but it’s really how I feel. “I’m in a sort of arranged marriage situation with him. My father’s stupid idea.”
He doesn’t exactly blink, but there’s a twitch in his gaze. “Damn. That’s… fucked up. I mean…unfortunate.”
I force myself to inhale slowly, trying to dissipate the anger that notion causes every time I think about it. I swing my gaze to the window. “You can’t even imagine. I’m not going to marry him, they can just go jump in a creek.”
“Gotta say, I’m relieved.” A deep chuckle from him lightens my mood. “Great visual, all that pale blue shit will get ruined.”
I let out a small laugh, then close my eyes for a beat. “Anyway, as you can imagine, things are a little awkward. I’m just trying to live my life like that isn’t even on my radar.”
His gaze narrows. The laser focus grows hot.
My body reacts with a flare of interest deep in my core.
His tone is lower when he speaks. “So what are we going to do now?”
Huh?
I process every word of that question one by one. Especially hanging on the word we.
With my mouth canting down in a frown, I lean back, pressing myself against the leather seat to keep from scooting closer to him. “I’m going to have the driver take me home. There, I’m going to promptly fall into bed and try to pretend this day never happened.”
His fingers spread on his thigh, smoothing the fine fabric of his suit over a column of muscles as he turns thoughtful. “It’s been a weird day. But honestly, I would never wish it didn’t happen. I wouldn’t have been here right now.”
I kind of agree. But I’m not able to admit that because my tongue tied itself in a knot. That’s not the only reaction. My hand has leaped to my chest. Beneath my palm there’s an alarming, thunderous pattern of beats.
“Walt, you're a smooth talker, aren’t you?”
The affronted look he had earlier today returns as if being called a smooth talker is almost as bad as being accused of being a bank robber.
“Not hardly.”
“I beg to differ, I think you can talk any woman you want into your bed.”
More affronted. Maybe even pissed. His reply has an undercurrent of hostility. “I’m direct. I know how to say what I think. Amongst other skills.”
I’m betting panty-slaying is one of those skills.
Maybe I’m running scared because my hackles sure do feel raised. “I still think you’ve got a lot of practice with women.”
He shifts in his seat, twisting his tie around his fingers. One corner of his mouth tucks back in a slight grin. That little move changes everything about the energy cracking between us. “I’m not a virgin if that’s what you’re asking.”
Oh, snap.
I almost laugh, but I’m too freaking hot. “You weren’t kidding, you’re direct. I gotta say, I’m happy you’re not a virgin…”
There’s a quick change in his expression. Way more intense.
“Holy runaway lips. That came out all wrong.” I cover my face with my hands. “I think I should stop talking now. I meant to say, I’m happy for you that you’re not a virgin.”
He chuckles. This time it’s warm. “Keep talking, sweetheart. Unless you want me to tell you more about my skill set.”
My hands tighten on my purse as a dangerous vision of his tie around my wrists invades my head. The result is an electrical arc between my nipples and my clit.
Pressing my knees together, praying I’m not glowing, I face forward, giving him my profile.
There’s humor in his voice. “Sweetheart, you’re blushing hard right now. Bet I can make you even hotter. Want to hear how?”
A desperate laugh bubbles out of me.
“No! I can’t take anything else. Please turn down the volume on your sexuality right now. My poor brain already got cooked today.”
He reaches for me, wrapping his hand around my wrist. A gentle stroke of his thumb almost shatters me into a bazillion bright pieces.
“Glad to see you laughing. That’s much better than before.”
We sit together, him touching my arm for a minute as heat pulses off of my face. But a warm glow sets up shop in my chest.
I get so comfy, my mouth opens and out comes an embarrassing confession. “I don’t remember the last time I was really happy.”
Walt’s hand releases my arm. I flinch when his knuckles brush against my bare shoulder. “That’s a crying shame, sugar. I think we need to fix that.”